


you like to see me squirm

by thehunnyfucc



Category: Princess Principal (Anime)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Sexual Content, anyway this is like a few years on from casablanca n they're like... 21
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 02:07:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13514514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thehunnyfucc/pseuds/thehunnyfucc
Summary: "Meanie. You like to see me squirm.""Can you blame me?" - episode 4Sometimes, Princess likes being in control. Ange also likes that very much.





	you like to see me squirm

Even years on, they still treasure every moment alone they can snatch. The next crisis can happen at anytime. They don’t know when they’ll be summoned again. They handle it in different ways; Ange masters sneaking in moments of affection, excelling in quick kisses and hasty trysts, knowing the fastest ways to make Princess shudder and come in the scant hours before dawn.

Princess, on the other hand, makes a point of slowness. Whenever they have long stretches of alone time together, Princess is always ready with a plot she’s schemed up while waiting, determined to fully enjoy their breaks. 

Often, she asks Ange to let her make the decisions. Ange knows: it’s a little bit of stability, a tiny world they can create where Princess never has to be wary of her own standing. And Ange enjoys it too, laying aside her worries and letting Princess decide for her. Choice and the lack thereof: they approach the problem from different sides, yet meet perfectly in the middle. Ange thinks, sometimes, that they are so lucky to have each other.

She definitely thinks so now as Princess pushes her shoulders down gently. “Sit,” she commands, and Ange obeys, sinking onto the bed. Her fingers are in Princess’s soft, soft hair, and it’s with regret that she lets go. But let go she does as Princess guides her hands to the bed and says, emphasised with a tap on Ange’s wrists, “Don’t move.”

Ange feels exposed, but she listens and doesn’t move. Her camisole’s already lying somewhere on the floor. Princess pulled it off long ago, all the better to suck soft bruises along Ange’s collarbone and down to her navel. The memory alone is enough to make her feel the exquisite throb of the lovebites, especially when Princess steps back to give her a long, admiring look.

When Princess twists her hair back into a loose knot, eyes fixed on Ange’s, Ange shivers and is wet in a moment. It’s ridiculous how well-trained she is. But she knows what’s coming and her brain quiets down to a soft litany of “please, please, please…”

Princess’s laugh is musical, too lighthearted for Ange’s desperate ache. “Impatient?” she says, and Ange realises she’s whispered her plea out loud. She bites her lip and keeps still like she was told, both hands firmly planted by her side. Even when Princess is finished with her hair. Even when Princess settles neatly on her knees in front of Ange and Ange’s digging her fingernails into the mattress.

Princess presses a kiss to the side of Ange’s knee, and Ange jerks. She flushes: already she’s failed. But Princess only laughs, and does it again, dotting kisses right up to her inner thigh while she trembles and trembles and tries not to push forward.

Finally, Princess’s lips stop just on the border of Ange’s drawers. She tugs playfully on the fabric with her teeth, then sits back, calmly watching Ange squirm.

It only takes three seconds for Ange to break. “Did I do something - what do you want me to do?”

“I think I liked how you sounded earlier,” says Princess. And leaves it at that.

Ange knows her, of course, knows what she wants from Ange. She shakes her head sharply, trying to cast off the arousal, or trying to deny saying it, she’s not sure which. She just needs to gather her thoughts for a second, work up to it…

Princess sighs delicately, pats Ange’s knee, and makes to stand.

“No!” she blurts, and cringes a little in shame. God, she’s weak. But Princess stops moving, and she looks at Ange with expectant eyes, so with halting words, Ange continues, “please - please don’t go. I want, I want… please will you…”

As Ange stumbles through her lines, Princess slides her hands up along the outside of Ange’s thighs. Ange’s words cut off abruptly as Princess’s palms settle around the rounds of her hips. The pressure of two thumbs, just inside the bowl of her hips, squeezes her eyes shut.

“What do you want, Charlotte?” asks Princess. Her breath washes across Ange’s stomach. With a stutter, Ange’s lungs start working again, weakly dragging in air.

“Will you touch me please,” Ange whispers in a rush, trying not to make it a question but it turns into a shivery pathetic thing that hangs even heavier in the air, so she keeps her eyes closed. She doesn’t want to see how easily she goes belly-up for this woman. She knows it already.

Beautiful, kind Princess doesn’t laugh this time. She only says, “I was hoping you’d ask,” and then Ange tips up and backwards with a surprised huff as Princess pulls her forward by the waist -

A smooth, hot lick on the fabric right over her clit. Ange’s whimper is even quieter than Princess’s pleased hum, but somehow Princess still hears. The thumbs press harder against Ange, holding her in place for the next lick, long and lingering right over the length of her.

It’s good, and it’s enough for the span of a few heartbeats. But it wasn’t what Ange asked for, so she tries again: “Touch - touch  _ me, _ not my u-underwear.” Princess doesn’t seem to hear. The next licks are hard, almost hard enough for Ange to grind down against, but they’re over too fast and the drag of fabric after is torture, tease without substance.

“Off,” says Ange, twisting against Princess’s hold; “please, take - “

Her voice jumps up to a whine when Princess catches her clit through the fabric between her lips and  _ presses _ . A shock of pleasure - then only the uncomfortable pinch as Princess holds it, the taut tension of knowing if she’d just do it again, it would feel so - 

Princess moves away instead. Ange rocks up helplessly once before she realises what’s happened. She looks down, straight into Princess’s pale, bright gaze. “You’re being quite demanding,” says Princess, quirking an eyebrow. The movement lances through Ange’s belly in a sharp stab of desire even as her heart sinks a little. “Who was in charge tonight again?”

Ange’s mouth is dry. She swallows, throat clicking, before she can answer, “You.”

“Mm. Who decides when to take this off?” A tap against Ange’s pelvis. She jerks, curling inwards a little, and barely suppresses a needy sound.

“You - you,” Ange manages. Breathe; and she adds on, “Princess. My princess.”

Because wasn’t that right: she would do anything for this woman kneeling between her legs, would obey her every order if that was what she wanted. And if what she wanted was to drive Ange out of her mind the whole night, well. Ange can only hope that’s not what’s planned for the night.

The flush that rises to Princess’s cheeks reminds Ange how much she enjoys this game too. “Better,” says Princess, cupping Ange’s cheek; Ange can’t help but lean into the touch, wishing it were a bit firmer. “Don’t fret, I’ll take care of you. Do you believe me?”

What other answer could she possibly give? Ange nods, sinking a little deeper into the pleasant haze of relinquishing control. 

She’s rewarded with a slow kiss, Princess humming with pleasure, and she swears she can already taste herself on Princess’s tongue. The steady movements of Princess’s mouth on hers plays counterpart to the fingers swirling nonsense circles over Ange’s thighs. She shivers, caught between the rhythms, overcome.

“Shall we try again?” asks Princess. She doesn’t have to wait for Ange’s eager nod before she’s sinking back down. 

This time, Princess doesn’t dawdle: she bends her head and starts in on Ange straightaway, little kitten licks sending thrills shattering over Ange’s skin. Ange can’t stop every shiver, but she tries, muscles standing tense and stark. Her chin drops to her chest as she pants.

Princess’s fingers massage up along the insides of her thighs, framing the path of her tongue, pressing lengthwise either side of her clit, and Ange gives her first full-throated moan of the night. If only she moved those fingers a little more inwards, or inside, inside would feel so good… but she holds herself still with the greatest of efforts. The need makes her bones ache. She clenches her eyelids shut so hard it sets off tiny sparks of light in her dark vision.

“Very good,” Princess praises; she sounds a little breathless. 

Ange exhales, battling the urge to clench her legs around Princess’s head. She tries not to sound too eager as she says, “Good enough?”

She wonders how she looks when Princess glances up and hides a smile against Ange’s inner thigh. Definitely too eager. It doesn’t matter, though, not when Princess agrees, “I suppose I could take pity.” 

Then Princess’s clever fingers are unlacing the ties of her drawers, and Ange’s tipping backwards onto the bed, trying to help her get them off. Princess follows her, pressing the length of their bodies together as they lay fully on the bed. It’s so warm it’s a little suffocating, but Ange welcomes it: takes advantage of their shuffle to splay her hands over Princess’s back and behind, hungry for the slide of skin on skin.

No doubt Princess notices her disobedience, but she lets it pass without a murmur. She has more interesting goals. Their movement brings Princess’s attention to the bruises dolloping Ange’s chest, and she takes a moment to revisit each one, grazing her teeth over them till they’re bright red again.

It’s… well, it still drives her heartrate up several notches, but Ange’s never been the most sensitive around her breasts, and her need is a steady ache that distracts her too much to make Princess’s touch there as enjoyable as before. She doesn’t want to ruin the game, so she just taps Princess’s hip.

As always, Princess seems to know exactly what she needs. The only warning is a pause as Princess rearranges their limbs; then Ange’s mind blanks as two fingers find her clit unhesitatingly and begin to stroke.

Ange’s knees jerk up, almost jackknifing Princess off. It’s a thousand times better without the cloth in between. Princess braces her own leg against one of Ange’s knees, holding her apart steadily, so she has nowhere to go. She’s so wet that Princess’s fingers are slipping every other stroke.

Her head twists against the sheets, and she lets out a closed-mouth whimper, which breaks down into tiny jumbled vowels with each stab of pleasure. Distantly, she can hear Princess’s breathless praise. “Oh, listen to you, beautiful - you’re so beautiful, you’re doing so well…”

Ange moans and clutches harder at Princess. She’s starting to shake under that terrible, wonderful pressure. She wants Princess to move faster; she wants her to force release from her, into her, take her to that state of blissful nothingness.

“Can I,” she says with trembling jaw, “please, can - can I - “

“I wanted to hold you on the edge longer, but I don’t think you can, can you?” Ange shakes her head, frantic. She has never understood the meaning of ‘a little death’ more than she does now, because she’s not entirely sure this won’t kill her. “Then, if I let you now - “ if she lets Ange, oh please let her, “ - will you let me do this to you again? When you’re more prepared?”

Yes, she wants Princess to hold her in the palm of her hand, wants her to strip Ange down to a bundle of nerves with her loving care, wants to please her; but for now - “Yes,” Ange begs, “promise, please now please…”

“Alright, then,” and Princess’s voice firms into a command, “let me see you come.”

With a convulsive shudder, the heat spills over, and Ange obeys. She draws up tight like a bowstring, making nonsense noises into Princess’s shoulder as she shakes through wave after wave, stomach seizing. Princess’s fingers are still on her - still pushing her through each soul-clenching shudder - she’s trying to pull away, oversensitive, praying for mercy but her tongue doesn’t know how - 

She thinks she comes again, mostly because that can’t have been one orgasm, one long bone-melting mindless helpless bout of bliss, it’s not possible; but thankfully Princess eases off this time. She only presses her palm against Ange, something solid to bring her back down. And still, some mad part of her wants to keep grinding against that palm, even as the rest of her body’s crying out for her to rest.

When the palm pulls away, it’s like Ange’s strings have been cut; she collapses onto the bed, a jumble of shivery limbs. She almost doesn’t register Princess’s soft voice. “How do you feel?” 

Her lips aren’t working. Her whole body’s limp and useless. Ange makes a disbelieving sound, and Princess laughs, and she probably shouldn’t feel a twinge of arousal at the sound after all she’s just been through but she does.

“I did a good job, then?” says Princess, her voice moving closer to Ange’s ears. In a moment, a warm body is pressed up against Ange’s back, grounding her to reality.

“The best,” Ange manages through her numb lips. She can feel wetness against her, and pets blindly behind her; Princess makes a pleased hum but catches Ange’s searching hand.

“We can wait for you to catch your breath.”

“...that might be best,” admits Ange. She wants to please Princess properly, after all, and she needs to wait for her strength to gather again after that… that.

Princess presses kisses against Ange’s tangled, sweaty hair. “It’s alright. I like watching you like this. No one else has a chance to; it’s a treasure all for me.”

Ange scrunches down against Princess with embarrassment as an aftershock shoots through her. “If you say things like that, I’ll never be ready again,” she mutters.

“I’ll get to see you like this always? That might not be so bad,” Princess offers, and laughs when Ange tries to swat her weakly.

**Author's Note:**

> hey this took me 13 hours to write over 4 days and while i love pripri so very very much that's so much pain, so. give me the gain. if you liked it and wanna see more pls let me know! otherwise i'll just fade back into the void i guess


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